Bussing It
by LilyGhost
Summary: For the first time, the Burg grapevine works in someone's favor. And Stephanie and Grandma Mazur both wind up with a date at the end of the day. A Ranger POV story.


**Everybody familiar belongs to Janet. Everyone and everything else, mistakes included, are mine. **

I was sitting at my desk, I would say minding my own business except mine is based on investigating others, when a blur of curly brown hair, excited blue eyes, and jean-clad legs that have me hardening instantly, blew into my office.

My lips received only brief contact with hers. "Hi. Love ya. Bye," she said, against my mouth. She turned back around and headed back towards the door. "I have a bus to catch."

"Freeze," I ordered. "Now explain."

"But I'll miss the bus I want if don't get my behind moving."

"I want your 'behind' right here, Babe."

She rolled her eyes. "_Of course _you do. Probably all my other parts, too. But okay. I guess there is always tomorrow."

She returned to my desk and made herself comfortable on me. My arms came around her to keep her sitting on my lap.

"You have your own vehicle," I began. "Plus the keys to all of mine, with permission to use any of them whenever you want to. Why would you need public transportation?"

"You know that I stopped in to see Mary Lou and drop her off a doughnut ..."

I held up my hand. "Let's start there. You only gave your best friend _one _doughnut out of the dozen I know you bought at the bakery?" I had to ask.

"Yeah, but it was a favor really. Mare said she's on another diet. Even you would agree that it'd be cruel to give her more than one to regret in the morning. I didn't think she needed to know that the new girl at Tasty Pastry screwed up my order and gave me a blueberry doughnut I didn't ask for or want. It had fruit in it, so Mary Lou agreed with me that it was a pretty healthy snack."

"Only you."

"You mean only me _and _Mary Lou. Not only do we share doughnuts, we share a brain."

"Are you trying to scare me with that comment?"

"Yup. Did it work?"

"Yes. So what does a visit with Mary Lou have to do with you wanting a bus trip?" I asked.

My fingers had a mind of their own and started working their way under the hem of her T-shirt until I could stroke the soft skin hiding beneath the fabric.

"You want me to actually form coherent sentences when you're touching me?"

"Yes," I told her.

She opened her eyes after two beats of almost purring and focused on the mission. "According to word down at the Clip and Curl, Grandma has the hots for a bus driver who she 'met' when my mother refused to take her to Atlantic City when her Bingo-buddy canceled due to poor judgment in shrimp consumption. Grandma essentially flipped Mom off by taking the bus the Senior Center offers from here to A.C. Grandma Mazur has apparently been smitten ever since."

"Give me a name and I'll make sure he's worthy of her attention."

"I already ran him through all of the Rangeman program-apps you put on my phone while I sat in Mary Lou's driveway. He comes up squeaky clean," she informed me. "But I really want to get a good look at him and also speak with him for a few minutes just to feel him out. I don't want Grandma Mazur hurt."

"I can't find a fault in your plan. You are an excellent judge of character. Has this progressed beyond a bus ride?"

"Only to _multiple_ trips to the coast now, and Grandma purposely securing herself a seat at the front of the bus just to be close to the driver's seat so she can continue to seduce this Monti Sinclair. What the heck kind of name is that?"

"If you're going solely by origins, a Spanish and Scottish one. What else did you get on him?"

"He's been widowed for nineteen years. He has a fifty-one-year-old son and fifty-year-old daughter. Plus four grandchildren ... three boys, one girl, and two great-granddaughters. Reports show him as being healthier than his age, and he has no arrest record or current warrant out on him. He seems so perfect on paper, I really want to be able to call him Grandpa number 2, but I want to make eye contact and soul-search him first."

"Sounds painful," I told her, getting a semi-painful jab to the ribs courtesy of her elbow.

"It won't be if he measures up to my expectations. Not just anyone is worthy of Grandma Mazur. She _is _a _two_-handful commitment, but she's also loyal to the core and loving till the end. I guess I'll have to wait to decide if he passes my tests."

"Until bright and early tomorrow morning?" I guessed.

"Yeah," she said, glancing down at the diamond Batman/Wonder Woman watch I had commissioned for her for Christmas. "I just killed the time I needed to shoot to his pick-up point. I'll have to catch him on his next run."

"Or we can pay him a visit on our way to dinner," I suggested.

"We have dinner plans?"

"We do if you'd like different scenery than what you're used to seeing inside my apartment."

"Can you get an address on him that fast?" She asked. "I was so busy looking for criminal activity, I didn't think to write his down. Talk about not letting my training go to my head."

"It's understandable, Steph. You're concerned about Edna. Feelings _always _cloud judgment, which is why we're trained to appear like we don't have any. I'll have his home address by the time you decide on what to wear for an impromptu intimidation run/date with me."

"If this guy can make Grandma happy, I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the cause."

I slid her ponytail aside with the tips of my fingers and kissed the nape of her neck. "Go change. I'll have a location by the time you're back here with me."

She didn't slide off my lap right away as I'd expected. Instead, she looped her arms around my neck and kept up some serious eye contact.

"Thank you," she finally said.

"Not only do I love _you_, Babe. I like Edna. It wouldn't be good for any man who screws with her affections."

"You're a good guy. This Sinclair man had better be one too," she stated, standing up. "I'll be right back."

Likely just to test out how good my men are, she was back in my office nine minutes later. Steph had released her ponytail and let her curls run gloriously free, added a hint of red lipstick and another coat of mascara, and slid her body into a simple, short-sleeved black dress that needed no adornments other than the curves playing _Hide-And-I-Want-To-Go-Seek_ beneath the clingy fabric. Her heels are her concession to this being a _date_/date. They have their own statement to make, going from solid black Swarvoski crystals at the toes that faded into silver stones towards her heels.

"You look amazing, Babe."

"I look like I only wanted to keep you waiting for a couple of minutes instead of an hour. I get why you chose black-on-black for Rangeman's uniform ... and corporate wear," she said, running her eyes up and down my dress pants and shirt. "It literally goes with anything you could have in your closet. Did Vince come through for us?"

"Do you doubt his abilities?"

"Nope."

"Then let's go," I said, sliding my arm around her waist.

"To ...?"

"Monti Sinclair lives in small home he owned with his late wife over in Hamilton Township."

"So no long distance romance for Grandma."

"Maybe _no _romance at all," I reminded her.

"I know. I may not want there to be sparks flying, depending on how he reacts to our sudden appearance. People tend to get real cranky when they see me standing on their doorstep."

"That's the spirit," I teased, getting the elevator for her.

"My mother's maybe. If Grandma Mazur likes him and he's even a fraction of the man you are, I'll be cheering louder than Grandma at their wedding."

"Let's start with _meeting _your future-grandpa before you offer to pay for their honeymoon."

I found the red brick ranch home easily, and I barely had the Cayenne shut off before Steph was out of it and on her way up the two slabs of stone creating a natural staircase leading to the front door.

"In a hurry, Babe?"

"Does it show?"

I pulled her close and kissed her curls. "A little," I told her before I rang the doorbell.

An older man who's slightly shorter than Stephanie but almost a head taller than Edna answered before I needed to press the button a second time.

"Hello there. Can I help you?"

"That's a loaded question," I said under my breath.

Steph heard me and gave me another elbow, this one to the sternum. "Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum and this is Carlos Manoso. Would it be okay if we ask you a couple of questions?"

The opening of his door _and _his smile instantly became wider. "Are you with the police department? Am I under arrest?" He asked with the type of amusement one exhibits when they've never had reason to be questioned by police.

Steph sighed and glanced up at me. "Grandma has good taste. I think _I _have a crush on him now just from that response."

"You're _mine_, Steph. Let Grandma Mazur have hers."

"_Grandma?_" Monti asked her. "_Crush? _Are you here to tell me someone's sweet on me?"

"No, but yes. First, we're here to make sure you're not crazy. No offense," Steph told him.

"None taken. My grandchildren call me old-fashioned. And I've been accused of being a questionable joke-teller, but in eight decades on this earth, I've side-stepped being called crazy to my face."

"You are lacking the eyes they're notoriously known for, so that's promising. Have you by chance noticed a little, gray-curled, seventy-something woman wearing bright pink lipstick, sitting right behind you. Likely chatting you up with a lot of arm-taps and '_Oh, yous!_' said around a big, but demure smile?"

"Are you referring to an Edna who has a habit of clicking her dentures whenever she's thinking about how to answer a direct question?" Monti asked in return.

Another good sign that he's more than noticed her.

"Sorry about that," Steph said to him. "I keep hinting that she should cut down on the mouth-noises, but it's now a permanent character trait of hers. I honestly don't think I'd recognize her if she ever stopped."

"Good. I must say I find it charming."

"_You do?" _Steph and I asked simultaneously.

"Yes. She's quite the pistol. Edna always has a smile to give and a story to share." He curved his hand along the side of his mouth as if he's about to share a secret with us. "Sometimes those stories are about whoever just stepped off the bus."

"Grandma Mazur knows _everybody _... and pretty much knows everything about them, too."

"Can I ask _you _something now?" Morti asked Steph.

"Sure."

"Your grandmother doesn't have a gambling problem, does she? She's on my bus sometimes up to three times a week. That's _a lot _of time spent in Atlantic City. I was beginning to worry."

"She doesn't have an addiction to casinos ... or _anything _really, come to think of it. She just thinks you're really cute. I've learned from some similar type of 'story-tellers' that she treats herself to a good dinner or just window shops when she's there. That being said, she's never met a slot machine she didn't like ... unless she's spent hours with it and it still refused to pay out. Then she boycotts the place for a solid month before forgiving and forgetting."

He grinned endearingly. "That's helpful to know, that she has a little bit of patience."

"So this crush is a mutual one?" Steph said, skipping the shallow end of the questioning pool and diving straight in from the board.

"I suppose so. I always scan my passengers now to see if she's among them."

Steph turned back to me. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Probably not, since we're standing here and that dress is still on you." I rewarded her blush with a wolf grin. "I'm teasing, Babe. I do know what you're thinking," I told her glare before cutting my eyes to Mr. Sinclair. "Stephanie and I are on our way to dinner, would you care to join us and meet Edna there?"

For the first time he appeared nervous. "Do you think she'd like to have dinner with me?"

"I know _I _do," Steph admitted, "so I'd bet anything Grandma Mazur would too if you don't already have plans ... or someone else's grandmother already on the hook."

"I'm a one woman man. Always have been. Before you rang my doorbell, I was debating which frozen dinner to microwave for tonight," Monti shared. "A good dinner out sounds like a much more pleasant alternative."

"What dinner were you leaning towards?" My Babe asked, always ready to judge someone on their meal selection.

"It was a neck-and-neck race between Sweet and Sour Chicken or Meatloaf with Mashed Potatoes and vegetables."

Stephanie was already shaking her head. "If you had said a family-sized container of mac and cheese, I'd ask if I could join you, but hearing _those _options ... it's clear that you need to come out with us. We're not crazy either, in case you were wondering."

"I assure you that I didn't live to be this old by being a fool, Miss Plum. I have my own mental-markers, and you have cleared every single one of them."

I noticed the expression on Steph's face. "What's wrong, Babe?"

"I was so worried about Monti being worthy of Grandma Mazur, what if he's actually too good for us?"

"What a sweet but flawed thing to say. I'm already enjoying this evening immensely. Why wouldn't I want to extend it? What restaurant shall I be meeting you three at?"

I gave him the name of the culinarily-renowned place I wanted to treat Stephanie to, and also supplied the directions to get there. We said goodbye for now, and on our way back to my car, Steph was connecting to Edna.

"_Grandma? _Are you free for dinner tonight?" She paused, waiting for an answer. "No plans? _Great! _Ranger and I are fifteen minutes away. Hurry up and put on that dress you got when we were at Macy's last week. We're going to swing by and pick you up. You've got a double-date with us and one heck of a charming bus driver waiting on you."


End file.
